


Arrival

by Jestana



Series: AU_Bingo [18]
Category: Talented Mr Ripley (1999)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Personal Life Changed, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-22
Updated: 2010-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 23:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jestana/pseuds/Jestana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom arrives in Italy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Written for au_bingo on LJ for the prompt _Alternate History: Personal Life Changed_. Some of the dialogue at the beginning is lifted from the film, but tweaked somewhat. Beta by unicorn_catcher and umbralillium.

**Arrival**

  
Tom joined the line, nodding politely to the lovely blonde woman in a dark dress already standing there. He was surprised when she addressed him, "What's your secret?"

"Excuse me?" he glanced at her in puzzlement. What was she talking about?

She laughed sheepishly, indicating a luggage trolley going by that was piled with suitcases. "Well, I just have so much luggage and you're so, um, streamlined."

"Oh, well, when you're used to traveling by air on your father's planes, you learn to travel light," Tom explained as they were gestured forward, understanding now that she must have noticed him while they were retrieving their luggage.

She stared at him for a moment, her face lighting up as she asked, "You're not one of the airplane Ripleys, are you?"

"Actually, I am." He smiled wryly as they followed the crowd through the building. There was no point to hiding that fact since she'd figured it out for herself. "Tom Ripley, the younger."

"I'm pleased to meet you." Her answering smile was on the shy side. "I'm Meredith Logue."

It was Tom's turn to stare, almost tripping down the stairs. "Not the textile Logues?"

"Yes, the textile Logues." She nodded her head with a sigh of exasperation.

He glanced back the way they'd come. "Your luggage was under the "R" stand, though."

"I'm travelling under my mother's name." She looked sheepish. "Kind of silly, isn't it?"

Before he could reply, a familiar voice called his name, "Tom!"

"Peter! Hi!" He waved and worked his way forward to embrace the other young man, breathing in his unique scent before he pulled back.

The brunette returned the embrace with a warm smile, his voice low as he asked, "Who were you talking to?"

"Meredith Logue," Tom replied, pulling back and turning around just as Meredith worked her way out of the crowd. "Meredith, do you know Peter Smith-Kingsley?"

She smiled and offered her hand to the taller man, "Yes, a while back."

"The textile Logues, right?" Peter asked, shaking her hand with a polite smile.

Behind them, Tom could feel Peter's other hand lightly resting on his back. Meredith nodded. "Yes, that's me." She waved behind her. "Well, my ride's here. Maybe I'll see you two around?"

"Maybe," Tom answered noncommittally before Peter could get a word out. "It was nice meeting you, Meredith."

She nodded, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders. "You, too, Tom."

After they'd retrieved Tom's luggage and boarded the train for Venice, Peter asked, "How was the trip?"

"Amazingly luxurious and tedious," Tom replied, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. "The Ripley name may open a lot of doors, but there are times when I'd like to open the doors myself."

Peter chuckled, a lovely sound that warmed Tom right down to his toes. "I can understand that. At least you're here now and the only one who'll be catering to you will be me, provided you don't mind living with me instead of in a hotel?"

"No, staying with you is just fine," Tom assured his friend, blue eyes warm with fondness.

The brunette smiled back, gray-green eyes just as warm. "That's settled, then."

"I just wish I could have gotten away sooner like Dickie Greenleaf." Tom sighed, leaning towards Peter's warmth.

His friend cleared his throat. "Speaking of him, Marge says he's arranging a ski trip to Cortina if you wanted to go."

"Is Freddie Miles helping him arrange it?" Tom asked, making a face at the thought of the heavyset redhead.

Peter nodded, his smile wry. "As far as I know. Why?"

"I can't stand Freddie." Tom shuddered elaborately to make Peter laugh. "He's boorish, loud, and crude. _'Don't you want to just fuck every woman you see? Just once?'_ Ugh."

As he'd intended, the brunette laughed, his eyes dancing with amusement. "No arguments here."

"Are you going?" He wasn't sure which answer he was hoping for.

Peter shrugged, giving Tom a measuring look. "I might not be able to. I may have rehearsals or something else going on."

"If you're not going, I won't." He shrugged as well. "I don't care for Dickie and his friends."

The other man leaned back in his seat, his shoulder brushing Tom's. "Maybe we could go another time, just the two of us."

"I like that idea much better." Tom leaned closer to Peter, exhaustion dragging at him.

He felt Peter rest his cheek against his hair, a slender hand covering his where it rested on his knee. "So do I, to tell the truth."

"I'm glad I'm finally here with you, Peter. I missed you." Tom let his eyes fall shut, enjoying this quiet moment with his friend and lover.

Peter squeezed his hand gently, his voice little more than a whisper. "That makes two of us, Tom."

With that, Tom fell asleep, leaning trustingly on Peter's shoulder. All of Italy to explore with Peter at his side. He couldn't be happier.

 **End**


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